High and Low
by TriplePirouette
Summary: Sara, Grissom, and a dead body in a wax museum on Halloween. Written for LSI's HalloweenShort Story Challenge


Title: High and Low

  


By: TriplePirouette

  


Category: GSR, Challenge response to LSI's challenge. 

  


Spoilers: uh, just general CSI knowledge.

  


Rated: PG

Disclaimer: They're not mine- I'm a poor college student having fun... take pity... 

  


Distribution: please ask first :) 

  


Summary: Sara, Grissom, and a dead body in a wax museum on Halloween. 

  


Author's notes: Halloween fic I was gonna write anyway- turned into a challenge response. LSI's elements: Use of Names of Episodes (I managed to get 43 out of 72 possible titles in here, take a look for them!), GSR, Short Story(less than 7,000 words- my story- 5465), Halloween theme. "The Story of Us" is a great movie.. Watch it if you ever get a chance! 

  


Feedback PLEASE at: TriplePirouettePhile@hotmail.com I love anything constructive! Blatant flames, however, will be disregarded and used to roast s'mores.... 

  


~~~~~~~~~~

11:15 pm

  


"Bonus. Crime scene at a Haunted House on All Hallow's Eve!" Sara exclaimed as she ducked under the crime scene tape and followed Grissom through the entry of the exhibit. 

  


"Wax museum, actually, not a haunted house." He flicked on his flashlight and began his trek through the graveyard scene, avoiding the _blood drops _on the floor, unsure if they were real or part of the exhibit. He pointed them out to Sara, then continued through the scene, heading towards the voice of Jim Brass. 

  


"Ahh, the _slaves of Las Vegas_, out and working on their busiest night of the year!" Jim Brass turned and greeted the two CSI's with his usual lopsided humor. 

  


"Las Vegas, mischief night; it's just your regular _recipe for murder_." Sara piped up, placing her kit on the ground next to a hay stack. The room's emergency lights were on, but it did little to illuminate the dark and eerie cellar-like interior. "Almost as bad as _Fight Night_."

  


"What have you got for us, Jim, there's a lot on our plate tonight."Grissom was already pulling on gloves and looking around. They were in a prison scene, the floor covered with hay, the air damp with fake smoke, and to their left were black prison bars that _caged _the forms of a cowering man, an executioner, and a guillotine that had been freshly used, the blade down, dried blood peaking on it through the opening for the neck. "I don't see a corpse, Jim."

  


"Keep your pants on, Gil. Even you have to be able to appreciate this." With a laugh, Jim turned and opened the door that was the employee's entrance, which circled around the side of the exhibit before heading out another door. As he held the door for the CSI's he couldn't help but find the whole situation comical. "Now ya don't see it, now ya do. _Abra-cadaver!_"

  


"Oh my God, is that it? That's real?" Sara blinked her eyes and stepped back, surprised at what she saw. Not visible from the front, a naked body lay, headless, on the guillotine, blood pooling underneath. 

  


"Yup. Head's in the basket down there in front." Jim leaned back against the door as they ventured in the scene, cameras in hand. "Poor girl was scared to death when she called it in. Sixteen year old girl took a part time job here just going through, making sure all the exhibits are clean before they're opened to the public. Said she didn't like this whole Halloween exhibit idea in the first place and hated going in. Took us about an hour just to calm her down."

  


"Poor girl. The place is creepy to start with, this would throw just about anyone into sensory _overload_." Sara said as she finished photographing the head and reached down into the wicker basket, turning it around. "You know, I was thinking about exploring the _chaos theory _from the get go here... you know, accidents and things. But looking at this," she lifted the head and displayed it's contorted look of horror and fear, "I don't think that really applies." She waved David over and handed him the head. "Besides, most accidents don't happen while you're naked."

  


"_Assume nothing_, Sara." Grissom warned as he circled the torso. "I am, however, inclined to agree with you. I think we have _a little murder _on our hands." Grissom stooped down and began to pick fibers from the body, cataloguing them and storing them in his kit. 

  


Before long, the body was removed and Sara and Grissom were circling the area, systematically searching for evidence and working in near complete silence. Brass and the officers had long since left, calls of mischief inundating the department and demanding immediate attention.

  


The comfortable _sounds of silence _were broken by a strangled growl from Grissom. Sara turned and caught his eyes as he pulled off his glove. She raised her eyebrow and implied her question. 

  


"Splinter from the damn boards," he motioned toward the back of the table section on the guillotine. 

  


Sara pulled her gloves off and walked over to him, crouching beside him and pulling his hand into hers. From the center of his palm a tiny splinter protruded from his skin. Cradling his hand gently, Sara avoided his eyes as she indulged herself in the contact. She softly brushed her fingers over his palm, and when she pushed lightly next to the splinter Grissom winced, a tiny drop of blood forming around it. "Got tweezers?" She looked up and locked eyes with him. 

  


Grissom tipped his head, indicating his field kit, without looking away from her. Energy flowed between them and for a moment the crime scene around them, the very haunted atmosphere of the Halloween exhibit, ceased to exist. As he began to turn his hand to grasp her palm, however, pain shot threw it and he winced, breaking their connection. 

  


A half smile formed on Sara's lips as she turned and reached for the tweezers. "Wimp."

  


Grissom's brow furrowed as she turned back to him. Taken aback, he commanded, "_Primum Non Nocere_."

  


"Yeah, yeah. First do no harm." She leaned down and poised the tweezers around the wood sliver. Under her breath she mumbled, "_Gentle, Gentle_," as she pulled it from his palm. "See? All better!" Without thinking, she leaned down, planting a quick kiss where the splinter had been. 

  


The surprise she found in Grissom's eyes revealed her actions to her, and her eyes began to widen with mortification. She opened her mouth to apologize, when everything went black. 

  


A second later they were bathed in red lights, and fog began to waft at their feet. Sara stood and looked around. "Uh..."

  


"Right..." Grissom stood next to her, picking up his flashlight as he did so. "Hello?" he shouted, only to hear his own voice bounced back to him. 

  


"Man, they probably forgot we were in here!" Sara stalked out of the cage and to the corridor they had entered through, heading for the exit she had seen. Pushing on the door, and fully expecting it to open, she crashed into it full force when it didn't. "Isn't this an emergency exit?" She began pushing on the door and slamming the handle. 

  


"They probably locked it when they secured the scene." Grissom tried to allay her frustration with his rational explanation while he joined her in the hallway. "Come on, the front entrance didn't have a door." 

  


They pushed trough the iron gate that separated the exhibits from the corridor to the emergency exit, and Sara was struck by the difference. 

  


"That was a _cool change_!" She turned slowly, surveying the exhibit with a new eye, a hint of nervousness hidden in her voice. 

  


"Huh?" Grissom turned and grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him. 

  


"The exhibit! It's like, 10 degrees cooler on this walkway already, there's a creepy mist on the floor, and just look at these displays! They're... creepy!" She fell into step next to Grissom, a mixture of excitement and anxiety on her face fueled by adrenaline. 

  


Not seeing this and concentrating on trying to find the opening in the black curtain at the front of the graveyard they'd passed earlier, he chatted idly. "A fan of haunted houses?"

  


Sara stood, her back to the fabric, and edged closer to Grissom and away from a skeletal hand protruding from the ground, poised to grab her ankle. "Um, no, actually. Kinda... hate them. With a passion."

  


Grissom stopped searching the thick curtain and turned to find her staring intently at a skeleton's hand bursting from the ground. He smirked a little and put a hand on her shoulder, which made her jump. She smiled up at him, slightly embarrassed. "If you're not going to help, I need to check this side." 

  


Keeping her eyes on Grissom, she moved over and watched as he finally found the slit in the curtain. Smiling as he moved it aside, a look of panic quickly crossed his face. 

  


Sara rushed over and pushed him aside, "What is it?" The same look of panic quickly crossed her face. In front of them was a rolling metal gate, like the kind you'd find in a shopping mall, and as Grissom tugged on it to demonstrate, it was firmly locked in place. From their place behind the metal they could see the yellow crime scene tape surrounding the entrance to the Haunted Wax House, and beyond that the dark expanse of the wax museum opened before them in a tableau of famous faces frozen in time. 

  


"Well, there's got to be another way out, right? It would be a fire hazard if there wasn't..." Sara's hands gripped the metal so hard her knuckles were turning white, a hint of panic seeping into her voice. 

  


Grissom slowly pried her away from the grating and was startled as her eyes met his, only thinly veiling pure fear. He began to talk slowly, and in a warm tone he'd use with a child. "Actually, this is the only other exit besides that emergency door. Brass briefed me on it while you and David were moving the body." The blood drained from her face and Grissom laid a hand on her cheek, trying to coax her to look at him. When she did, panic had taken over. "Sara? What's wrong? I thought you were excited about being here...." 

  


Her breath sped up, and she reached up, grasping Grissom's biceps with more force than he was ready for. "Uh, well, when there were police, and Brass, and lights and you here, it was all cool. It wasn't real...."

  


"Sara?" He stroked her cheek, trying to get her attention, though her eyes were aimed at him, he could tell she was far away. "What happened? Where are you?" 

  


Sara grabbed Grissom arm and tugged as she sprang through the path designated for visitors. "There's got to be another way out of here. There just has to be!" She pulled him past their crime scene and through the next curtain to reveal a small bridge that connected to the next scene. Sara flew through the rest of the exhibit, dragging Grissom along behind her, only to find that it took her in a giant circle, spitting her out through a tree trunk back in the graveyard scene. 

  


Sara was practically hyperventilating, tears streaming down her face as she took in the depressing scene before her. Grissom, slightly out of breath, slowly walked up beside her, murmuring her name before he put a hand on her shoulder to keep from surprising her. 

  


"We can't get out..." she wrapped her arms around her torso and began to shiver. Unsure of why she was reacting so violently, Grissom slowly led Sara back to the hallway by their crime scene, and sat her down with her back to the exhibit, then sat to the right of her blocking her view of the iron bar door so that all she could see was him, the emergency exit to her left, and the plain white wall in front of them. 

  


Slowly, her breathing started to return to normal. Her panicked reaction scared Grissom, but he couldn't let her know that. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Grissom moved his hand to cover hers, and softly spoke her name. She turned to look at him, dried tears still evident on her cheeks. 

  


"Sara, what happened? Why did you panic?"

  


She dropped her head from his gaze and spoke quietly, turning her hand so that she could grip his rather than letting it rest passively on hers. "This sounds really stupid, and you have to promise not to tell anyone." She looked up and continued when she saw him nod. "When I was about 7 my cousin and a bunch of his friends took part-time jobs at a local haunted house for the season. It was one of those ones that's set up in the middle of a field, has all kinds of mazes in it, and even though there are some dummies and sets and things, most of the things in the house are real people dressed as...whatever.... and who stay still until you're right next to them and then they jump out and scare you. You know the kind?" Again, Grissom nodded. 

  


"Well, this one was supposed to be the best- the place you went to if you really wanted to be scared. And it was true. My parents would never let me go because they knew I'd hate it. So that year I told my cousin how much I wanted to go, and he talked to my parents into letting me go with him one night, said that he'd tell everyone that I was coming so they'd be ready. Oh, they were ready alright."

  


Sara dropped her head and Grissom saw another tear fall from her eye. "As soon as we got there he told me he had to go talk to his boss, and to just go through the haunted house by myself. It wasn't too bad until the graveyard scene. It was in this big tent, and as soon as you got in they closed the tent behind you so you couldn't get out. My cousin and all of his friends were waiting. I don't know how long I was stuck in there, but I was a mess. All I remember are these faces, flying at me, and a wolf-man picking me up and spinning me around. I was hysterical. I never went out on Halloween after that. Haven't been in another haunted house until tonight."

  


Sara looked up at Grissom, a sad smile on her face. "Kinda stupid, huh?" 

He moved his arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward him, his other hand still entwined with hers. "Not at all." She let her head rest on his shoulder, and sniffled into his shirt. "Are you ok now?" 

"Yeah, I think so." She let her free arm wind around his back, content in not thinking but rather just accepting his comfort. "I really thought I'd be ok, otherwise I never would have come. I mean, what are the odds we'd get stuck in here?"

~~~~~~~~~~

1:20 AM

  


_"Friends and lovers, _betrayal, _random acts of violence, snuff, blood lust_, revenge... these things are the worst part of humanity, but in the end they're the reason why I get my paycheck each week. How horrible is that?" Sara was still leaning on Grissom in the small hallway, their conversation meandering here and there. 

  


"In the end, I think it's no more than three simple things that keep me in business: _sex, lies, and larvae_." Sara looked up at him from her place on his chest, and was met by a shrug of his shoulders. "Think about it, practically every case I handle contains either sex, a lie, or a bug. It is grim, but as long as one of these three always exists, I've got a job in some form. Besides, our court system demands the _burden of proof_. Without it, there would be chaos and witch trials. So if you think about, we are very useful, if only to make sure that _justice is served_."

  


"You're right, this is grim." 

  


~~~~~~~~~~

1:45 AM

  


"Favorite _one hit wonder_?" Sara let her head roll back against the hay of the exhibit, examining the ceiling. 

  


Grissom, mirroring Sara's position, thought for a second, then turned his head to look at her. "You promise you won't laugh?"

  


"Laugh? They're one hit wonders, they're supposed to be silly. C'mon, what is it?" She turned her head so she was looking him in the eyes, leaving their faces mere inches apart.

  


"Thomas Dolby, She Blinded Me with Science." 

  


Sara stared at him for a second, then she barely suppressed a smirk, "_Who are you? _And what have you done with Grissom?" She burst out in giggles just as she finished, and rolled into a shaking ball of laughter at his feet. 

  


Dejected yet amused, he just stared at her. "I told you not to laugh."

  


~~~~~~~~~~

2:27 AM

  


"You know, every time I go out for _a night at the movies _with a guy it's not all about getting a ring on _'the finger' _or getting them to pay through the nose for some _precious metal_. If a relationship is going to _crash and burn_, so will a marriage. Nothing will just last _forever_ by itself. If you're not committed, if you don't try, it just won't work. But then you get those lucky bastards who _play with fire _and win! The ones who make their wife get a _face lift_, then go off and cheat on her anyway because they're having some kind of _identity crisis _and then, _boom! _Wife's got the _last laugh_..."

  


"Sara?" Grissom turned his head and reached out a hand to lay on her arm. She started and turned to him. "You ok?"

  


"Uh... yeah. What were we talking about again? I guess I got a little side tracked...." Sara rubbed at her eyes, feeling an embarrassed flush going up her face when she realized she had just given him a ten minute dissertation through frustration.

  


"I asked if you like gold or silver better. You know, you don't wear much jewelry, never really took note..." Grissom made a mental note to never bring jewelry up again, even if they were playing twenty questions. 

  


"Oh." Sara turned her head to look back up at the ceiling. "Silver."

  


~~~~~~~~~~

3:15 AM 

  


Sara twisted her head to the right, then to the left, and then nodded, content with her findings. "_The Execution of Catherine Willows_," she proudly announced. 

  


"What?" Grissom turned to look at her, perplexed. Sara was still holing onto his arm, albeit with a little less force than before, as she examined the exhibit in front of them, trying to formulate her reasoning. Grissom was glad he had come up with this next little game of "Name the Exhibit." It was helping Sara to get over her fear and was better than sitting for hours on end. 

  


"Well, just look at her face," she pointed to the dummy on the rack, the chains on her arms and legs pulling her as the pendulum poised above her promised to slice her cleanly in half. "The hair, the shape of the face, kinda looks like her. Plus, there's the little blonde girl hiding in the corner. Thus, '_The Execution of Catherine Willows_.'" She turned her head up to Grissom. 

  


"_To Halve and to Hold_,'" Grissom delivered in his usual deadpan. 

  


"Cute." She smiled at him. 

  


"Why, thank you." He smiled back. He turned from the scene, moving to the next one: werewolves poised around a table of human body parts presented on platters. He felt her grasp onto his arm a little more tightly and moved his free hand to rest on her arm. "Well? What do you think?"

  


"_'Revenge is Best Served Cold.'"_

  


"Why?"

  


"'Cause I'm pretending that's my cousin on every single one of those plates." 

  


~~~~~~~~~~

4:02 AM

  


"Ever hear of _high and low_?" Sara was buried in Grissom's side, lying back in their corridor. 

  


"Like the card game?" Grissom looked down to try to see her face, but all he could see was a tangle of hair. 

  


"No, it's from a movie, 'The Story of Us,' my friends and I used to do it all of the time. It's not even really a game, I guess. It's just... high and low. You tell the highs and lows of your day. It's like, sharing, and stuff." Sara yawned and snuggled closer to Grissom. "Like, my lows for today would be getting stuck in the crime scene, having the crime scene be a haunted house, and freaking out. Obviously. Highs for today? Um...." Sara began to giggle, "Finding out that your favorite one hit wonder is 'She Blinded Me with Science!'" Her laughs moved from giggles to a full blown laughing fit, and Grissom couldn't help but follow into fits of laughter himself. 

  


When they both calmed down Sara gave a contented moan and closed her eyes, wrapped in Grissom's arms. "What about you?" 

  


"Lows, getting stuck in a wax museum."

  


"Obviously," Sara mumbled into his side. 

  


"Obviously," he repeated. "Highs: Now knowing that Sara Sidle is no longer afraid of haunted houses, and knowing to never ask her about jewelry again." Sara looked up and then lightly rammed her fist into his side. "Ow, ok, ok, point taken."

  


~~~~~~~~~~

4:59 AM

  


"Anybody seen Grissom?" Nick asked as he strolled _inside the box _of glass known as the break room. 

  


"Nope, not since assignments. Why? Is it _evaluation day _or something?" Warrick asked with a jab in his voice as he looked up from his notes and waited for an answer. He knew how eager Nick was to please their boss, and couldn't help but take a few shots at him once in a while. 

  


"He's missing, Sara's missing... haven't seen either of them all night..." Nick sat down heavily in the chair across from Warrick, confusion written plainly across his face. 

  


Warrick closed the folder and leaned on the table. "They were on the same case, you know- maybe it broke, maybe collection's a killer. I mean, true, it's not like them to not check in, but I'm sure they're fine."

  


~~~~~~~~~~

5:00 AM

  


"Do you think anyone's noticed we're gone?" Sara lay content in Grissom's arms, their predicament now merely accepted. 

  


"I would hope so... they are some of the best CSI's around. They should definitely be suspicious by now, at the very least. I mean, when was the last time either of us was away from the lab this long during shift without checking in, especially me?"

  


~~~~~~~~~~

5:30 AM

  


"_Lucky strike_, man!" Warrick yelled at Nick while he gloated for his win in their baseball video game. 

  


"Eh, it's all in the thumbs, man! It's called skill..." Nick bowed melodramatically. 

  


"Uh, kids, that's enough!" Catherine announced as she rushed in. "Anyone know where Grissom is? I have a lead on why the_ pilot_ of the charter took a nose dive into the lake..." 

  


"_Bully for you_! But, uh no. Griss and Sar are MIA."

  


"For how long?" Catherine put her folder down on the table and tried to think of the last time she'd seen either of them since the start of shift. 

  


Nick chimed in as he poured a cup of the sludge that passed for coffee, "No one can remember seeing them since they left for their 419." 

  


A worried look crossed Catherine's features. "I'm going to find Brass."

  


~~~~~~~~~~

5:45 AM

  


"Hey Griss?" Sara asked from her position at his side. 

  


"Hum?" he almost wished she hadn't spoken, it broke the fragile illusion he had dreamed up where they weren't stuck in a crime scene but lying in his bed, and that she wasn't snuggled against him because he was the only thing available, but because she wanted to be.

  


"I just wanted to let you know that, um, I'm really glad you were here with me. And that, with all of it's lows, tonight was definitely a high."

  


Grissom lifted his head and looked down at her. He rushed to find a good response, he didn't want to leave her hanging like he usually did. "I guess you could say we did the best we could with the situation." He knew it wasn't the best response, but at least it was one. 

  


Sara lifted herself up on an elbow so that she was looking Grissom in the eye. "I guess. But I mean it. Thank you. If you weren't here, I.... I would have really lost it. And, well, it was nice to actually... talk, for once. I don't, just... thanks."

  


Their eyes met and suddenly the tension that had been simmering just underneath the surface all night bound them to each other. The pressing stress of their incarceration had held it at bay, but now their level of comfort and intimacy released it, and pulled them towards one another. 

  


Their lips slowly met in a soft, chaste kiss. Sara leaned on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling their bodies closer together. He rolled over so that he was partially on top of her as their chaste kiss quickly progressed to breathless, passionate explorations. He realized, in some part of his brain, that for the first time in a long time he was acting without thought, just emotion, and that it felt wonderful. She felt wonderful. Grissom quickly banished all thought from his brain as he felt Sara's lips make contact with the soft skin just behind his ear. 

  


He quickly reclaimed her lips, needing to feel the strong emotional and physical connection he felt when kissing her. Breathless, he pulled away and looked into her eyes. Her tousled hair framed her face and her breath was coming in ragged gasps through her swollen lips. He had never seen her look more beautiful, and he knew what he wanted to say, "Sara, I–"

  


"Hello?" Came Brass's yell through the exhibit.

  


"Sara? Grissom?" Nick's voice was right behind his and getting closer. 

  


They shared a panicked glance and pushed away from each other like kids caught making out by their parents. 

  


"Over here!" Grissom shouted as he stood and pulled open the iron gate to the exhibit from their corridor. He was met by an amused Brass and relieved Nick. 

  


"You guys got locked in?" Brass asked Grissom as Nick went to help Sara gather the evidence from earlier in the evening. 

  


"Yeah. What happened to your guy stationed out front?" Grissom picked up his kit and flash light, standing with Brass as Nick and Sara passed. 

  


"Hey Sar, you have some hay in your hair..." Nick prefaced before he reached up and started picking it out. "You look a little.... flustered. You ok?" Something about her manner worried Nick, it was almost as if she couldn't wait to get away from Grissom. With an inner groan he wondered what their boss had done now. 

  


"I fell asleep, Nick. Don't people usually look flustered when they're locked in a torture chamber overnight, fall asleep, and are woken up?" She had an edge to her voice that told him the right thing to do would be to drop it, but of course, he couldn't. He took in her appearance again, and a new thought dawned on him.

  


"But, Sara, how did your hair get all mussed? Your lips look a little swollen, too.... you need some Chapstick?" She quickly reached out her free hand and punched him in the arm. "Ow. Ok, point taken."

  


~~~~~~~~~~

8:00 AM

  


Grissom threw his clothes in the hamper, happy to be in a pair of sweat pants and t-shirt. While he completed his shift he'd become aware that he smelled like her. He didn't know if anyone else noticed it, but it completely distracted him as he tried to get the evidence signed in and processed. 

  


As he passed the TV he flicked on the news, letting it drone in the background as he pulled out a half- full box of Chinese food from the other night. He threw the Lo-mein into a pan and turned the range on, stirring it every so often as he got lost in thoughts of that morning and the feel of Sara's lips on his. 

  


It was only when he smelled smoke that he looked down to the pan and saw that his dinner had burned to the point of being unrecognizable. He quickly threw the pan in the sink and let cool water run over it, creating another plume of smoke. He wrinkled his nose at the burnt smell and turned on the garbage disposal, hoping to get rid of some of the blackened noodles down the drain. Grissom looked up in panic and cursed under his breath when the doorbell rang. 

  


Satisfied that his kitchen was not in imminent danger of burning down, he left his pan to soak and unlocked the door. Pulling it open, he saw the smiling face of Sara Sidle. 

  


"Trick or Treat!" She proclaimed with a smile that she couldn't suppress. Before Grissom could say anything she spoke again, "We were kind of... interrupted... this morning and I thought we needed to..." She blushed and looked away from Grissom's intense stare. "Not that I want to..." When she looked back at him she saw that his face had fallen, and she knew instantly that she'd screwed up. "I didn't mean that I don't want to... I...." She let out a sigh in defeat. "Can I come in? I'm making a fool of myself out here."

  


Grissom smiled at her and opened the door wider for her to enter. Assaulted by the odor of some kind of food being horribly burnt she turned to him, panicked, "I think-"

  


"Nope, burned it before you got here." he smiled at her and waved her toward the living room. "Do you want anything?" 

  


"Uh, no." She shrugged her shoulders and sat down on his couch. "Can we, maybe, just talk?"

  


"Yeah, sure." He sat next to her, close, but not touching. He turned to look at her and found her biting her lips, her eyes looking confused and lost. "Sara, before we were interrupted I was going to–"

  


"Highs and lows, Grissom?" She blurted it out so rushed and forcefully that he had to think if she really said it or not. She looked nervous, and decided that he should go with what she was trying to do rather than push his own thought. 

  


"Ok. Low is still getting locked in the wax museum." Sara dropped her head and hid her face with a curtain of hair. "Highs? Highs would be..." Grissom reached over and grasped her hand. "Having a dream come true." Sara looked at their linked hands, then up at his face in surprise. "Kissing you, Sara, was a dream come true. For more reasons than I care to think of these feelings were just _too tough to die_. I've never–"

  


Grissom was cut off by her lips meeting his and her body crashing on top of him. She kissed him deeply for what felt like mere seconds before she pulled away. "Lows: getting locked in a haunted house. Highs..." She thought for a moment and began kissing his neck, punctuating each statement with a peck on his neck. "Getting over my fear of haunted houses," kiss, "finally being able to kiss you," peck, " and hearing that your favorite song is by Thomas Dolby!"

  


Sara tried to kiss him, but he pulled back. "I said it was my favorite one hit wonder... not my favorite song." 

  


Sara leaned up and planted her lips against his firmly, then spoke softly against them, "Ahhh, whatever. You do know that I'm going to tease you mercilessly about this..."

  


"Mmmm," Grissom groaned in defeat. He rolled so that she was trapped between him and the couch, then assaulted her neck. "Only if you'll be...." but he stopped and pulled away, confusion written on his features. 

  


"What?" Sara reached up and stroked his face, trying to erase the worry lines with her touch.

  


"Well, girlfriend sounds too... adolescent. Lover implies something strictly physical...."

  


"I'm yours, Grissom. I don't care what we call it. I'm just yours." She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to nuzzle. 

  


"As I am yours, Sara. As I am yours." 

  


He kissed her softly again, and then she spoke against his lips, a smile threatening to erupt, "It's poetry in motion..." 

  


"She blinded me with science, and failed me in biology!" Grissom added with a laugh, then held her close as their laughter subsided, reveling in the feel of her body next to his, and knowing that she wanted to be there. 

  


After a long, comfortable moment, Sara whispered into his ear, "So Grissom, more lows or highs today?"

  


With a sweet, chaste kiss, Grissom whispered back, "Highs. Definitely more highs."

  



End file.
